


Till the End of Light

by Orison



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s10e22 Aloha (Goodbye), Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orison/pseuds/Orison
Summary: “Don’t make me come looking for you,”Danny had told Steve that day on the beach. But things never go as planned, do they? – Written for Whumptober 2020.
Comments: 36
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I love Whumptober. Although I usually don’t need an excuse to hurt Steve, there are so many interesting prompts that it’s really hard to resist. So I combined a few of them (I will update the list when I post the second part so that it won’t ruin the surprise) and took the opportunity to ‘fix’ some of the events of the finale. Most of us still have questions and concerns about it, and who’s better than the characters themselves to try and answer those? ;)
> 
> The story’s set six months after the events of the finale but I’m ignoring the pandemic. It sucks enough to live through it already.
> 
> A special thank you to my beta reader Susan, who is also my biggest fan. Her enthusiasm for my stories is even greater than my own and I love that more than I will ever be able to put into words.

***

_Till the end of light_  
 _I’ll follow you as your shadow_  
 _Till the last drop of rainfall_  
 _I will protect you_

***

Something was bothering him.

Hurting him. 

Aching inside of him. 

It felt wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. 

There was water trickling down his face, and a general sense of wetness seeping through his clothes and skin. His cheek was pressed against something hard and as awareness slowly increased, he realized he was lying on the asphalt, face down, limbs sprawled out in a butterfly-like pose.

Instinctively he rolled onto his back, and all the breath left his lungs as sharp pain erupted from his chest, leaving him gasping like a fish out of water. Disoriented, he tried moving again, and this time could not hold back the groan at the shock wave that rolled through his upper body. 

Lesson learned, he cradled one arm protectively against his stomach and waited, taking small breaths in hope that the pain would abate and trying to comprehend what was going on around him. 

Everything felt confused, like a jumbled set of a puzzle.

A puzzle that Steve didn’t know how to solve.

His body felt like it had been bruised in every corner, and his head throbbed as if someone had taken a knife to his skull.

He opened his eyes. 

Slowly, carefully. 

It was dark all around. 

_Night time?_

Cold sweat glistened on his features as he lay there, trying to find a reason for the ribs he knew were broken and the blood he could feel oozing out of his abdomen. It was a stark contrast to the waves of heat coursing through his body.

Steve blinked, trying to focus.

Veils seemed to flutter within his eyes. 

There was a door next to him. Or what was left of it. It had been bricked up. A bell was painted over it, with the word ‘freedom’ written on top. Steve looked at it. It was familiar, as if it should remind him of something but in his confused state, the meaning eluded him.

Gradually, his vision cleared but in the weak evening light, little was revealed. 

It looked like an alley, dark and littered with trash. 

Steve shuddered, struggling not to gag at the revolting smell of piss and rotten takeaways that suddenly assaulted his nostrils. 

What was he doing there? He couldn’t tell. 

Was he alone? It was lost as well.

His hand rose shakily from the ground, reaching for the back of his head. There was a gash deep enough he thought he could touch bone, and blood running down his neck to stain his already soaked shirt. 

Noises came from the roads nearby, ricocheting off the dark brick walls. Loud, too loud, filling his ears and drilling into his brain. 

Steve swallowed down the nausea and lowered the hand, patting his jeans pockets for his phone. It wasn’t there, but he tried not to let that discourage him and pressed the same palm against his wounded stomach.

Droplets clung to his lashes as rain continued to fall from the sky, making it hard to see clearly.

Propping himself on one elbow, he focused on the light coming from a lamppost at the end of the alley. 

He needed to get there.

Get to the road and call for help.

Slowly, while the world spun on its axis, Steve placed his other hand on the ground and rose to his feet. His seized-up muscles made each movement stiff and jerky, and he wondered if his legs were going to support him.

Lighted windows stretched as perfect little squares along the side of the buildings above him. Their glow was warm, welcoming. For some reason, it made him think of Danny.

Stretching his arm, he reached for the nearby wall and rested his head against it, closing his eyes until he felt steady enough to attempt a few steps.

To his dismay, putting one foot in front of the other proved to be way harder than he’d thought.

Holding his injured abdomen, he staggered towards the end of the alley, stopping every now and then to catch his breath and steady himself. When he finally got there, exhausted as if he’d run a marathon, he leaned forward, his free hand on his thigh, and waited for his vision to stop swimming so he could take in his surroundings.

Rows of nearly identical houses lined each side of the street. Steve knew the island like the back of his hand, yet he couldn't remember ever being there before. Must be the headache, he decided, messing with his thoughts.

A pair of headlights temporarily blinded him as he stood there, making him lose his balance before passing and disappearing down the road. He stumbled forward, almost falling on the sidewalk and grunting in pain when the sudden movement jostled his injured ribs. 

His eyesight blurred, making everything fuzzy, and consciousness threatened to slip.

Steve fought, resisting the urge to give up.

Coldness crept over, chilling his bruised skin and seeping into his bones. He shivered as it spread across his body, powerless to stop the accompanying numbness that started to overtake all of his senses.

Driven by a stubborn willfulness, a determination to survive come what may, Steve pushed himself back up and started walking again. He succeeded for a while, but never made it to his intended goal. His feet gave out from underneath him, and he collapsed to the ground as if all the energy had suddenly left him. 

Knowing he wouldn’t get up again, he considered crawling.

Even that proved to be too hard to accomplish so he just stayed there on the cold ground as the rain continued to pour down. 

And that’s how they found him, lying in a half-sitting position against the steps of one of those identical brick houses, head lolling on his chest.

***

Bright lights.

Voices shouting directions.

Hands.

Touching him, cutting off his clothes.

The claustrophobic feeling of the C-collar anchoring his head. 

_“Sir? Sir? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?_  
_That’s it, that’s good. You’re in the hospital, we’re going to take good care of you. Is there anyone we can call?”_

“D-danny… Danny Williams.”

***

It was 10am on a Saturday when the call came in.

Danny was engrossed in a mind-numbing monster sudoku after having declined Adam’s invitation to join him for lunch.

While Steve had become more social over the years, he’d progressively withdrawn. Sure, he still enjoyed his friends’ company and the occasional night out, but as he had admitted during one of their last cases together, he now jumped at any opportunity that allowed him to avoid people. And that had only gotten worse since he’d found himself sitting alone on Steve’s beach, left behind like a stray thought while his friend went looking for peace.

Truth was, he still hadn’t processed that departure and the giant hole it had left in his heart. 

Every day he woke up and did what he was supposed to. Care for his family, put criminals behind bars, and be the best person he could for the people that surrounded him. He had fallen into a routine, boring and predictable, finding out it helped him stay on track and keep his focus. Systems and structures made life easier, and easy was exactly what he needed. Even when it meant completing the grid in the Star Advertiser’s weekend edition he’d been stuck on for over ten minutes.

Mostly, it helped him not to think, something Danny had been striving to avoid at all costs. The goal was to keep his mind busy, challenge it so that his thoughts wouldn’t drift to Steve and life without him.

But when his phone rang and the area code displayed on it was one he didn’t recognize, he couldn’t help wondering if it was him calling, and if this was the day he’d get to hear his voice again after a whole month of silence.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Williams?”

“Yes.”

“This is Rose Davies, calling from the HUP/PPMC—” 

“Sorry, I got everything I need,” he replied, annoyed by the interruption.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t need to sell me anything, I’m all set. The great State of Hawaii provides only the best for its employees.”

He heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath and wondered if he had been too harsh. 

“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” she apologized. “I didn’t realize you weren’t local. This is the Penn-Presbyterian Hospital in Philadelphia. We have a patient, uhm… a Steve McGarrett? He asked us to contact you.”

The phone almost dropped from Danny’s hand. 

_Steve was hurt?_

_And what the hell was he doing in Philly?_

“Is he okay?”

“He was admitted last night, but I can’t really discuss—”

“I’m his emergency contact,” Danny intercepted, his annoyance flaring. “That’s why he told you to call me.”

“Oh... I see.”

She was silent for a few moments, which only managed to fuel Danny’s concern. 

“Listen,” he said before she could add more. “I don’t know what’s going on but I’m going to need a little more information here to figure out how fast I need to jump on a plane to the East Coast so I’m asking again: how is he?” 

“He’s got broken ribs, a stab wound and a severe concussion,” the woman finally responded. “Police thinks he got mugged.”

“Mugged?” Danny repeated in disbelief, raking a hand through his hair. 

_Seriously, Steve? Who gets mugged during a quest for peace?_

“Okay. Alright, I’ll… I’ll be on the next plane out.”

“He’s in good hands, Mr. Williams. We’ll see you soon.”

“Thank you Rose, I appreciate it.”

There was a part of him that was still mad at Steve for leaving, and that part hated that he always had to be the one to rescue him. But the other part, the one that had stood by his side for a decade and loved him dearly, couldn’t bear the thought of knowing he was hurt and alone, so Danny tossed the newspaper aside and started packing a bag the second the call ended, haphazardly throwing stuff into it while searching for the first available flight to the mainland.

 _‘Don’t make me come looking for you,’_ he had told him. 

Should’ve known Steve never listened.

***

“McGarrett, Steve. Where is he?”

Tired after the long flight, stomach queasy from airplane food and anxiety, Danny gave the nurse at the counter his best _‘do not mess with me’_ stare.

“Who are you?”

“I’m his—” he started, only to stop short a moment later. Somehow, partner didn’t seem appropriate here. Neither did friend. “I’m his emergency contact.”

The woman nodded. “Room 203. Down the hall to the right.”

“Thank you.” 

Despite the need to check on him his pace was slow, hesitant. 

Didn’t matter how many times he’d seen Steve hurt, there was no getting used to it. 

His step faltered at the doorway, guts knotting in anticipation and concern. It would be the first time they’d see each other since they had said goodbye and even though their feelings hadn’t changed, things had been different between them. Almost tense, in a way.

To this day, Danny didn’t understand the point of leaving, of needing to put an ocean and endless miles between them when Steve could’ve done his healing in the comfort of his own home and surrounded by the family that loved him. Steve, on his part, had seen no other way. That had left Danny to grieve on his own and with a piece of his heart missing that he couldn’t wait to get back.

After standing uneasily outside for a few heartbeats, he opened the door to his friend’s room and let himself in.

Whatever progress Steve had made since he’d left Oahu, it had been wiped out by the assault. 

His natural golden skin had sunken to a sallow tone, giving him an ashen look that was scary just to look at. His left eye was swollen, and there were multi-colored bruises on his cheek and collarbone. Head tilted slightly to the side, he seemed to feel pain even when unconscious. 

Danny’s eyes slowly traveled over his friend’s body, his overactive imagination easily supplying what the sheets and the hospital gown were concealing from sight.

He inched closer, shaking his head at the injustice of it all. 

From what he’d been told by the local PD, they had found him unresponsive and hypothermic in the South Philly area the night before. His wallet, discarded a few feet away, had no money or credit cards in it but his ID was still there, and that’s how they’d found the emergency contact information to call him. Danny didn’t know Philadelphia that well, but it wasn’t exactly one of the nicest boroughs in town, and he wondered what had brought him there.

He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed, his thoughts immediately drifting back to the role reversal that had happened a few months before when Daiyu Mei had tried to kill him.

Remembering how nice it’d felt to have his hand held, he reached for Steve’s and curled his fingers around it. He stayed like that through the nurse’s check-up and until his friend started to stir, looking forward to seeing with his own eyes that he was going to be fine.

But Steve didn’t do anything halfway, so the first thing he did as he started to come to was try to claw the oxygen mask off his face. 

“Stop it,” Danny said, gently catching his hand and lowering it back onto the mattress. “That’s there to help you. Just relax, you’re alright.”

Steve instinctively flinched away from the touch, his confused mind tricking him into thinking he was still in danger. His other hand rose shakily in a protective gesture, trying to shove Danny’s away as if expecting more pain.

“Steve, it’s alright, you’re safe.” Danny whispered, his heart clenching painfully at the sight. “It’s just me. Stay still.”

Steve’s eyelashes fluttered faintly against his pale cheeks and he stopped moving, recognizing on some unconscious level that it was a soothing touch and not one meant to cause harm. 

He moved his lips soundlessly, failing at producing any sound. 

“Hey, wake up. _Wake up_ ,” Danny urged, watching his friend try to crawl back to awareness. “Good. Thanks. That’s more like it.”

He smiled when Steve opened his eyes. It had been too long since he’d looked at them.

“There you are. Say something so I know you’re okay.”

“D-Danny?” Steve croaked out through cracked lips. His eyes were glassy with sedation and unfocused with fear and all he could see were blurred shapes, but there was no mistaking that voice.

“Who else?”

He turned his head towards the voice, groaning in pain when the room around him started to swim.

“Don’t move,” Danny cautioned him. “Take it easy.”

When Steve’s eyes finally focused on his best friend’s face he gave him a breathy smile, relieved to see him at his side.

Despite having just woken up, he felt exhausted. Every part of his body felt heavy, and the chemicals in his blood were sucking his ability to keep his eyes open.

Danny picked up on that and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Sleep,” he said softly. “I got you.”

Steve believed him.

He squeezed back and lost consciousness again.

***

When he came to an indefinite time later, Danny was still sitting by the bed. Hands clasped in his lap, head down, he seemed to be a million miles away, brooding over what Steve could only assume was the latest stunt he’d pulled.

Not that he had any time to dwell on it. As soon as his eyes reacted to the brightness in the room his headache spiked and he gulped frantically to swallow down the nausea washing over him.

“My head’s killing me...” he managed to groan when he no longer felt like puking.

Danny stood up, reaching for the switch to dim the lights. “It’s gonna hurt for a while. You have a concussion and a hairline fracture.”

“Got it,” Steve mumbled, slowly opening his eyes again.

 _Concussion_.

That made sense.

It explained why the thoughts in his head kept melting away and he couldn’t keep focus. 

His upper lip twitched in pain but the sensation wasn’t as bad as before so he blinked a few times and tried to focus on the rest of his body. 

“Did I get shot?”

“You got stabbed, you lucky bastard. In the only place a person can be stabbed without damaging organs.”

Steve didn’t feel lucky. If anything, he felt sick and tired of hospitals, concussions and being used as a punching bag. He reached for the bed controls and raised the upper half of the mattress. 

“Where am I?” he asked, looking around the room. “Is this Tripler?”

Danny’s heart skipped a beat.

“ _What?_ ”

“Looks different…”

“Steve, what’s the last thing you remember?”

He thought about it for a moment, struggling to recall memories that seemed to fall out of his grasp. “Uhm… I don’t know. The paniolo case. Gold coins stashed in the vic’s property. We rode horses, I hit my head on a rock.” That had to be the reason for the headache and his latest concussion.

Danny dropped back down in the chair, stunned. 

The hair on Steve’s arms stood on edge at the shock on his friend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Danny, _please_ …” The heart monitor started to beep faster as Steve became increasingly agitated.

Sighing, Danny leaned forward and tried to school his features into a mask of calmness.

“Steve, that happened six months ago. You’re in Philadelphia. I’m gonna get the doctor, alright?”

Steve’s lungs seized up and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. 

“What?” he choked out, eyes wide in bewilderment at the news that he was not in Hawaii.

But Danny was already gone. 

Dumbstruck, he sank against the pillows, unable to process what he had just been told. Not only had he apparently forgotten traveling all the way to Pennsylvania, he also had no memory of the last six months of his life.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

***

The feeling of disorientation and confusion Steve had experienced at the news settled into his gut and stayed there through the doctor’s account of every hit he’d received and the consequences of it.

Surprised to learn that his patient was a highly decorated officer, the man had gone out of his way to explain and discuss the diagnosis he’d made and the treatment for it. Or lack thereof, in this case.

After he left, Danny had explained it to him all over again, counteracting Steve’s frustration with patience and the right amount of irony so that his friend didn’t feel like damaged goods.

One of the effects of the amnesia caused by a blow to the head was in fact his difficulty to retain information, which prompted him to ask the same questions repeatedly and reliving the shock of learning that he had left the island.

Emotionally spent after the third round, he had waited until Steve had fallen asleep and then gone out for a walk around the building to clear his head. When that proved to be futile and the same thoughts came back with him after his stroll, he decided to drown them with caffeine. 

If they weren’t going away, they might as well help him figure out where to go from there.

Standing by the vending machines in the waiting area, he wondered yet again what had brought Steve to Philadelphia. 

_‘Go to Jersey’_ , he’d advised him the day the possibility of losing him —even if temporarily— had become a reality. In his heart, Danny hoped his friend had followed his advice and was on his way there when he got attacked. He had wanted him to see his birthplace for a long while, eager to share all of his favorite spots and memories with him just like Steve had done at the beginning of their friendship. Even if it wasn’t Hawaii, there was still a lot to appreciate.

He reached into his jeans pocket for change and stared at the rows of neatly stacked snacks without really seeing them. They were just a blur of bright colors. Lost in those bittersweet thoughts, it was only when he watched a kit-kat drop into the pickup slot that he realized he had done the exact opposite of what he’d intended. 

“Damn,” he muttered. 

Looked like his brain wasn’t working right either.

His fist curled instinctively at his side, ready to punch the machine for a mistake that was only his to own. Shaking his head, Danny bent down instead and picked up the chocolate bar. 

A quick search through his pockets revealed there was no change left. Resigned, and just as exhausted as before, he walked back towards Steve’s room with a snack he didn’t even like and no coffee to drink. 

At the door he hesitated again, just like the first time. He watched his friend sleep from the threshold, noticing that the lines of pain were finally gone from his face.

There was so much he wanted to know, so many details about the long months Steve had spent away from O’ahu. Where had he been? What had he done? Had he found the peace he was looking for? The pictures and the quick updates he’d received had only scratched the surface. He missed their talks, their time together. Even when there was no talk at all.

As he resumed his place by the bed, Danny hoped those memories weren’t lost as well.

The doctor had told him that Steve’s retrograde amnesia was a result of the damage to his temporal lobe caused by a direct hit to the head with a blunt object, and that while his older memories hadn’t been affected, the ones of the event that had caused the trauma and nearest to it might never be recovered. 

His condition could be temporary, permanent, or get worse over time.

The good news —and thank god there was at least that— was that this kind of memory loss wasn’t going to affect his intelligence or his ability to learn new skills and form new memories.

Danny would have to deal with it and then convince Steve to do the same.

***

“The cops are still looking for your stuff. They found nothing in that alley so unless your backpack was stolen they, uh… they think maybe you got an apartment or a hotel room nearby.”

It was meant to be a simple update, a way to strike up a conversation, but Steve didn’t take it too well. 

“I don’t know, Danny, okay? I can’t remember a damn thing!” he snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose to will the ever-present headache away. “I don’t know what happened or what I’m doing in this town. I can’t even remember leaving the island!”

Nothing was making sense to him and he felt sick about it. 

Sad, confused, upset.

His perception of reality, or what little he’d been able to grasp, seemed to be altered and he didn’t know how to fix it. 

“Alright, okay, don’t get all worked up about it. You’re still healing, it will come to you.”

“What if it doesn’t? What if I don’t remember?”

That was his biggest concern. 

He looked at his best friend with such a desperate stare that Danny didn’t know whether to hug him or excuse himself to go punch something. 

“Give it time,” he said reassuringly. “Doctor said it’s perfectly normal considering what you went through.”

“He also said that I may never remember what happened.”

“You don’t know that yet. No one knows. Everyone reacts differently.” 

Steve’s body sagged back against the mattress. His broken ribs and overall weariness made it difficult to move, which only added to his frustration and distress. “I know. I just feel… I just need to know.” 

He had questions, lots of questions, and a nagging feeling that there was something important he needed to remember. 

“Why did I leave, Danny?” he asked eventually, because that was the most pressing matter of all.

Danny wasn’t surprised by the question, but by the sudden realization that he had no idea how to answer it. Summing up months of life-altering incidents in an objective way, keepings his feelings at bay to give Steve what he needed, seemed like an impossible task.

“Why’d you leave… buddy, I’m not sure I even know where to start…” he admitted. “But I’m gonna try anyway, alright?”

Overwhelmed by too many conflicting emotions, all Steve could manage was a nod. 

“Okay… Remember when we found out Wo Fat’s wife was after that NOC list?” 

Another nod.

“Good. Well, turns out she was also after a cypher that your mother sent you…”

Steve listened with rapt attention as his friend recounted all the events that had led to their final confrontation with the woman and his following decision to walk away from Five-0, shocked by how everything had unfolded and most of all, by his choice to leave everything and everyone behind, especially his ailing partner. 

Danny had been kidnapped, shot to the chest for the second time in two years and he’d said goodbye to him a week later? 

It didn’t sound like anything he would do and the worst of it was, his friend seemed to feel the same way.

His face had turned three shades of pale by the time Danny finished speaking, and he kept massaging his temple as if what he’d just learned physically hurt to hear. It took him several moments to even find the words to express what he was feeling and when he did, he didn’t feel they were adequate enough to apologize for his behavior.

“Danny, I… I don’t know what to say. I mean, I can’t believe I forgot about all of that…”

“It’s not your fault,” Danny stated matter-of-factly. He got up from his chair and walked to the window, staring absently at the city outside as he rubbed his chest where the bullet had hit. Reliving the trauma and all those emotions he’d squashed down for self-preservation while he settled back into his pre-McGarrett life had taken a toll on him too. He felt drained and lightheaded, and the fact that he had not eaten a proper meal in almost a full day factored in it too. 

Steve’s gaze followed him as he moved away from the bed and continued to study him from across the room. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how the ordeal had affected him and hoped that, up until he left, he had offered him the support he needed. 

“I’m sorry, Danny…” he said softly, the regret palpable in his tone. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you. It’s all my fault.”

Once again, his family’s mistakes had caused other people pain.

Daiyu Mei and her quest to avenge an equally twisted soul.

Doris and her sick attempts to make up for the love she never gave him.

An ongoing drama that had ruled his life for decades.

Danny ran a hand over his face and exhaled loudly. “Don’t. Please. Do not apologize for something you had no control over. We went through that already.”

Steve shook his head. He would keep apologizing until he felt he’d atoned for his actions enough to deserve forgiveness.

“I mean it, man. I’m sorry for abandoning you. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

Danny waved him off. 

“It’s alright. Water under the bridge.” 

Despite the hurt that had caused him, he knew that if Steve’s head had been on straight he would’ve never left at all. Seeing him in his hospital bed, uncharacteristically fragile and lost, Danny felt a surge of protectiveness and affection that washed away whatever resentment was left.

“You know what my last words to you were that day?” he said with an amused smile. “ _‘Don’t make me come looking for you.’_ Well, here I am…”

Unable to hide the smile that crossed his lips Steve ducked his head, still ashamed but at the same time grateful that his friend had once again crossed the ocean just to make sure he was okay.

***

A desecrated crypt.

Flames licking at his skin.

Danny lying on the dirty floor of an abandoned house.

Footfalls behind him. 

A knife glinting in the night light.

The sound of metal falling to the concrete.

Taunted by confusing memories, Steve woke up with a racing heart and a labored breathing.

The cool air streaming from the nasal cannula reminded him that he was safe and cared for as he forced himself to calm down and keeping his eyes closed, he tried to match his breath to the beeping of the machines surrounding him until he felt ready to open them.

For a second, everything was blurry, and his limbs tensed in reflex. 

Before he could ask himself where he was, his gaze landed on a piece of paper that was propped up by the water pitcher on the tray next to the bed. He reached for it and turned on the overhead light to read what had been written on it.

 _Don’t panic._  
_You’re in Philadelphia and you’re going to be alright. I’m not there because you ordered me to get some rest but I will be back soon with breakfast._  
_— Danny_

Frowning, Steve stared at the note until flashes of an earlier conversation replaced the disturbing images of his dream.

Then he smiled.

Yes, he had told Danny to leave, insisting that he eat and get a few hours of sleep before coming back to see him.

Relieved and encouraged by the fact that he’d remembered something on his own, he slowly sat up and got off the bed. 

Moving was against doctor’s orders, but he needed the bathroom and he’d rather have both legs broken than ask for assistance with that.

The semi-darkness of the room was a blessing for his throbbing headache. Folding one arm protectively across his abdomen, Steve let the low light filtering through the window guide him as he shuffled to the adjoining restroom.

A shadow shifted as he moved past the sink. Steve saw it out of the corner of his good eye and impulsively reached for his gun until he realized that all he was wearing was a hospital gown and that the face staring back at him from the mirror was his own. 

It was more purple than any other color, which explained the ache radiating all across it and down to his neck and shoulders. His hair was disheveled, his left eye swollen and his skin a clammy shade of gray.

Shaken, he tried to recall yet again what had led to this, to an unsafe neighborhood in an unfamiliar town, but other than those fractured images his brain refused to remember, denying him the answers he needed.

It killed his mood instantly.

Five minutes later he was back in bed, face closed off in a stern mask of self-reproach, asking the nurse for something that would help him sleep.

***

“I know you’re awake.”

The sun was high in the sky, and besides a slight chill in the air to remind summer was long gone, it was an otherwise pleasant day in the City of Brotherly Love. 

Not that Danny was enjoying it. 

He had showed up as promised, bright and early, only to find with concern and a tiny bit of dismay that Steve was sound asleep in his bed. A quick check with the nurse had reassured him that nothing was wrong but that his friend had requested a sedative during the night.

Steve McGarrett had asked to be knocked out. 

_Willingly._

A clear sign that something must’ve gone wrong while he wasn’t there. 

“Steven,” he tried again. “You can fool the nurses and the heart monitor but you can’t fool me. What’s wrong, buddy?”

He had a pretty good idea of what might be going through his friend’s head. Even injured, with a brain only firing at half of its capacity, Steve must’ve found a way to either blame himself for the six-months-old events he’d just relearned or get angry at the realization that a big bad Navy SEAL hadn’t been able to ward off a surprise attack carried out —according to the doctor’s words— by at least three people holding knives and iron bars.

Danny found both of those thoughts ridiculous to say the least.

Seconds passed, marked by the steady beeps of the machinery around them.

The light in the room slowly started to change as they turned into minutes and the sun rose higher in the sky.

Still, Danny waited.

He knew it was the right thing to do and was rewarded a short time later when Steve finally opened his eyes and turned towards him.

For someone who had slept for hours, he didn’t look rested at all. The dark circles under his eyes seemed more evident than the day before, and his thick beard had bristles sticking out in all directions that made his appearance even more haggard. 

Danny associated that beard with all the tragedies that had messed up their lives, and wanted it gone as soon as possible.

“It’s been one day,” he said, reading Steve’s concern as clearly as if it was spelled out on his forehead. “ _One_ day. You can’t even breathe properly and you’re asking your body for something it’s not ready for. Give it some time.”

Lips pursed in an angry line, Steve nodded.

“And I’m fine, alright?” he added to address the other issue his friend was struggling with. “Did it suck getting shot? It did. Every time it takes longer to heal but it’s been six months, man. Let it go.”

“I can’t,” Steve whispered tightly. “It still happened. You still—” he scrubbed a hand over the side of his face that hurt less, forcing himself to calm down. “You could’ve died.”

Even though the reason he’d left O’ahu was still unclear to him, he could now understand how something like that might have pushed him to do it. Since his mother had died, since he had watched the life of yet another person he cared about fade from their eyes, he’d vowed not to let anything happen to the only remaining anchor he had left. He couldn’t even begin to explain it, this terror that enveloped him every time Danny was near danger, he was just positive he would not survive his loss so he needed to do whatever it took to prevent it.

Which he’d failed at, apparently. 

“How’s Eddie?” he asked, changing the subject to something more pleasant.

“He misses you terribly.”

“The team?”

“All good. Cole’s holding the fort down as you asked.” 

“Who?”

“Linc— the guy who helped you with the cypher, remember? I told you about him.”

Steve nodded. He had no memory of the Marine who had apparently backed them up during the hunt for Wo Fat’s wife. Mulling the thought over for a few seconds, he tried to piece all the information together. 

“Why did I leave the team to a stranger?” he asked when his battered brain made a connection that didn’t make sense. Logically, Danny would’ve been the first choice as his second-in-command, with Lou Grover a close second due to his decades-old experience in the field.

Danny huffed a laugh despite himself. 

“Beats me, buddy, who knows?” Looking over at Steve, he saw the serious expression on his friend’s face. “I really can’t answer that,” he added. “But I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Steve grumbled in irritation as he shifted in the bed. The more he learned about his actions in the last few months, the less he understood them. 

He sank back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling above him. It was made from those polystyrene squares laid on a grid-like frame, adding to the dull look of a room that was meant to heal but actually unnerved him.

“I want to get out of here, Danny…”

“I’m glad some things haven’t changed,” Danny replied with a smirk. “Doctor’s going to be here soon and then we can figure it out, alright?”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause after that, a short lull during which several questions popped into Steve’s head. 

Where would he go when they discharged him? He had no money and his backpack was lost. 

Was he ready to go back and resume the life he had left?

Would his friends welcome him back knowing what he’d done?

Something else occurred to him then. Something very important he needed to know to ease at least one piece of his mind.

“The kids…” he said, searching Danny’s gaze and holding it as he spoke. “Are they mad at me?”

“No. No, they’re not mad at you. They weren’t happy to learn that you’d left but I explained why you had to go and they’re okay now.”

Steve wasn’t sure a seven-year-old could understand something he himself didn’t, but he trusted Danny and knew he only had their best interest at heart.

“You sure?”

His thoughts went to Grace, who was old and smart enough to have opinions and voice her dislikes.

“Positive.”

“Okay.” 

He closed his eyes, feeling suddenly drained. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll wake you up when the doctor comes in.” 

It sounded like a good idea.

His younger self would be horrified, yet Steve knew it was exactly what he needed. 

“I miss them, you know?” he whispered before falling asleep.

Danny smiled. 

Maybe he could do something about it.

***

“My decision to leave… I didn’t take it lightly.”

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a spirometer in his hands. The doctor was concerned about pneumonia, because lung infections were common with ribs fractures, so he had encouraged him to take deep breaths to avoid it and had given him the device to help with that. 

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Danny replied. It was day three and he had just arrived at the hospital. The cup of coffee in his hand was only half empty, so it took him an extra second to get what Steve was saying. “Wait… you remember?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s great!” _Or not_ , judging by his friend’s face. “What’s wrong, babe? You should be happy about it.”

“I am. I just… I need you to understand.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“I do. I mean, I want to.”

Explaining the dark void that had consumed him in the months after his mother’s death, the emptiness, the inability to pretend that everything was okay was challenging to say the least, but it was important to Steve that Danny knew and understood his reasons, even if it was about something that had already happened. 

“All I’ve been through…” he started, “I’ve worked at full strength for so long, and I felt— I felt like a horse that’s been run into the ground. Truth is, Danny, in the state I was in, I had no more energy left. Couldn’t afford to care about all the things I’d been caring so deeply about.” 

Danny nodded. “That’s what you said to me that day on the beach. I understand, Steve. I do. I’ve seen friends in the force get burned out from half the stuff you’ve been through.” 

“Yeah, but— there’s more…”

It had started with a muscular ache.

Legs that had always wanted to run suddenly asking him to rest.

Then fatigue, an emotional pull towards lethargy.

A brain that had made plans and strategies, kept up with decades of pent-up needs and emotions, wanting so very powerfully not to do it anymore. 

A weary body needing him to press stop, to feel safe and start enjoying the simple things in life.

Add to that Danny’s near-encounter with death, and Steve had been so overwhelmed that his panicked mind had seen no other way out.

“This need to stop, to rest, had been growing in my bones for months,” he continued. “And it wasn’t something that I could silence or… or that would disappear with the sunlight in the morning. The only thing to do was give in to it.” His shoulders slumped, but it was relief that he felt, not guilt. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I understand it now; I just didn’t see it back then.”

Lowering his gaze, Steve stared at the spirometer in his lap. He had done his best, and hoped his message had come through. Lifting the device up, he put the mouthpiece in his mouth and closed his lips around it.

Danny watched him straighten himself up and breathe into the tube. Slowly, the piston in the air cylinder rose to the top. Steve held his breaths for a few seconds and then let it fall to the bottom of the cylinder.

He rested for a few seconds and then started again. 

It said something about the injuries he’d sustained over the years that he had mastered the art to perfection. 

“I wish you’d shared all of that with me instead of running away…” Danny said softly once the breathing exercise was completed.

“I… I didn’t know how. You know I’m not good at that.”

True. 

Steve had never talked much about his feelings. 

The amount of personal information he had just heard was actually surprising. 

If it was one of the effects of the amnesia, Danny wasn’t going to complain. 

“Do you remember anything about the attack?” he asked. If his memories had started coming back, there was a chance he might remember that too. 

“No. I tried, but… I can’t.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. Some things are better off not remembering.”

Steve shrugged.

Maybe Danny was right.

***

One week after the assault, Steve was ready to be discharged.

The bruises on his face had faded, and after a much-needed shave he looked more like his former self than Danny had seen him in months. His ribs were on their way to healing, and all that was left of the knife wound was just another scar marking his body.

The events that had led to Danny’s shooting – their last few cases together and Daiyu Mei’s attempt at revenge -- had mostly come back, as well as part of the memories of his solo travels across the country. The attack was still a mystery though, and it was unlikely that he would ever remember.

What he was doing in Philadelphia and what had led him to that neighborhood would never be revealed.

He had accepted it, hoping it wouldn’t come to bite him in the ass later, and so had Danny.

The doctor was pleased with his progress, his suggestion to keep doing the breathing exercises as he started to get more active more a precaution than a concern. He had advised them to wait a few more days before getting on a plane, which had raised the question of what to do until then. Steve got tired easily and couldn’t really walk around, and that ruled out most of their options.

They had found his belongings in a hotel room on the other side of town, including a lot of gifts he’d bought for everyone. Danny had gone to collect them, and sat on the neatly-made bed as he went through them. 

If he’d teared up while doing that, no one had witnessed it. 

Discharge papers completed, Steve was standing by the window when Danny walked into the room saying they were ready to leave and that a nurse would be there shortly with the mandatory wheelchair. 

“Where are we going?” he asked. As much as he wanted to go, they literally had no plans and no place to go besides Danny’s accommodation a few blocks over.

Or so he thought.

“Well… I was thinking…” Danny started, uncharacteristically hesitant. His hands made a sweeping gesture but it was his smile that betrayed an already arranged plan.

Steve caught up on that immediately.

“We’re going to Jersey, aren’t we?” he asked, giving him a dirty look that both knew was just an act. 

It was actually a good solution, much better than the idea of yet another nondescript hotel room. And Danny deserved it for what he’d been through and for putting up with him for a decade. It would be a welcome distraction for both.

“I don’t know,” Danny shrugged. “I mean, we’re already here… it’s only a ninety-minute drive. You’re going to have a nice bed and a comfy couch to heal, and I know my mom would love to see you again. Plus, you said you missed the kids and guess where they are right now? Getting some Williams’ love.”

Steve’s face lit up. “They’re here?”

“Yeah, they’re at my parents’ house, so I thought we could head up there and spend some time with them. And maybe, you know, you could give them those gifts you bought...”

“I’d like that,” Steve admitted, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get there. 

Beside him, Danny was equally excited and failing miserably at hiding it.

“Good. Also I never got to show you my favorite places, so now that I get to finally drive you around—”

“I’m _fine_ , Danny!” Steve cut him off with a firm tone and a raised hand. Regaining control over his mind and body was paramount to him, and even if he was not ready to drive he needed everyone to believe that he would do that —and much more— soon.

Danny shrugged, unfazed. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

As if to prove that he was nothing but fine an orderly came in, pushing an empty wheelchair.

“Alright, ready when you are,” he said cheerfully.

Steve eyed it as if he could incinerate it with a look. “I don’t need that.”

The young man blinked in surprise. “It’s, uh... hospital procedure.”

“It’s not happening,” Steve repeated, hands on his hips in his classic, threatening McGarrett pose. “I’m not getting in that thing.” 

Danny leaned against the wall and watched the whole exchange in amusement. The kid seemed to shrink under his partner’s intense stare, unable to tell like he could that Steve wasn’t really mad at him and only establishing his dominance.

“Well,” another voice chimed in, and they all turned to see the doctor step into the room with the knowing look of someone who had been through that too many times. “We’re having meatloaf for lunch. If you’re staying I can tell the nurse to save you a plate.”

Silence reigned for a moment as Steve considered his options and the other three men waited for what they knew was coming next. 

Danny bit his lower lip as he tried not to laugh. 

“Fine,” he finally huffed, because there was no way he was staying there a minute longer. After saying goodbye and thank you to the doctor, he reluctantly sat down and let the orderly push him out of the room and towards freedom. 

He waved as they passed the nurse’s station, genuinely grateful to them for taking care of him. They responded in kind, offering him their brightest smiles through wistful looks that said they were happy he’d healed but sad to see him go.

Danny rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. 

Steve never realized what he did to women, and probably didn’t even care. 

“I’ll be just one minute,” the young man said when they reached the elevator, leaving the two friends to wait in front of it.

Steve saw his opening and went for it. “Hey, Danny? Can you push that elevator button for me, please? I’m walking out of here.”

Danny grinned. “I know you are.”

He did as told, holding the doors open for Steve and following him inside, the delight on his partner’s face worth defying hospital protocols any day.

The orderly came back just as the doors started to close but it was too late. He stood there like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide, unsure of what to do.

“You can have his meatloaf,” Danny chuckled while next to him, Steve gave the kid a shaka sign. 

They both laughed, loud and carefree like they hadn’t in a long while. 

Even if the future was uncertain, they had found each other again and that was all that mattered.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> I made a conscious decision not to explain what happened to Steve. It’s common, with brain injuries and this type of amnesia, that memories related to the trauma never come back. I do reserve the right though to come back and add another chapter if I can figure out what he was doing in PA. 
> 
> Also, can a big, bad Navy SEAL get randomly mugged? I believe so. Steve has been surprised and attacked many times on the show, even at the beginning when he was in top form, so I assume it’s plausible that it can also happen when he’s supposed to be ‘on vacation’ and his guard is down.
> 
> The end scene is a homage to a TVshow I adored back in the days, “Third Watch”. I do not own it, like I do not own Hawaii Five-0. Just showing my appreciation.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts I have used in this fic: Disorientation | Blurred vision | Ringing ears, Concussion, Mugged, Memory loss.


End file.
